


Love In An Elevator

by Darksilvercat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Elevator Sex, M/M, PWP, fandom gets me, i love that there's a tag for elevator sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksilvercat/pseuds/Darksilvercat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dean sometimes wonders just what exactly it is, this thing between him and Castiel.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In An Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal on September 19th 2009. Written for mrstotten. Beta'd by bindaroonie. 
> 
> I blame Aerosmith.

It’s been three weeks since Dean last saw Castiel. Three weeks since he last backed his angel up against a wall, fisting his hands in that ridiculous trench coat and kissing him hard and fast and messy. Three weeks since Castiel pushed him down onto some random motel bed and fucked him through the mattress, Dean meeting him thrust for thrust until they came together, crying out in unison. Three weeks since Castiel collapsed onto his chest, sweaty and shaking, not even bothering to pull out as they lay in each other’s arms.

The encounter had lasted forty minutes, thirty if you accounted for the fact that they were fully dressed and discussing some apocalyptic crap for the first ten. That’s the way it always is though, rushed and urgent, never enough time, always the possibility that this might be their last chance to be together. Death and war hanging over them at all times, only ever forgotten in that one moment of completion, for which they constantly strive. 

It’s hardly a fairy-tale romance, hardly romance at all, and Dean sometimes wonders just what exactly it is, this thing between him and Castiel. An escape, a release, salvation or corruption; he really isn’t sure. Sometimes he thinks it might be love, but that’s a ridiculous notion. He’s not even sure he knows how to love any more, and he’s certainly not convinced that a freakin’ Angel of the Lord could ever love someone like him.

Still, it keeps happening, and they’ve been through the questions and the fears and the resistance, Dean adamant that he’s not gay, Castiel so afraid that he would fall.

But now they’ve reached some kind of unspoken agreement. 

Cas still has his wings, so Dean isn’t going to start worrying until they have something to worry about. The apocalypse still being kind of a priority at the moment, and so in the short time they spend together they agree, none of that will touch them.

Three weeks is far too fucking long in Dean’s opinion.

So when Cas appeared beside him in a freakin’ elevator of all places, Dean had hit the stop button without even thinking about it, the elevator jerking to a stop before the angel had even had the chance to open his mouth.

“Dean,” Cas begins, but Dean is already on the move, fisting his hands in Cas’ trench coat and pinning him up against the door, claiming his mouth in a fierce kiss. 

Cas doesn’t waste time on protesting - by the time Dean starts to push the trench coat off Cas’ shoulders, Cas’ hands are already on his belt, fumbling with the buckle. Cas’ coat and suit jacket drops to the floor, and Dean pauses just long enough to shrug his own jacket off before tugging the hem of Cas’ shirt free from his pants.

Cas finally wins his battle with Dean’s belt and moves on to pop the button of his jeans. He only tugs the zipper halfway down before sliding his hand beneath the waistband and into Dean’s boxers, fingers closing around flesh that’s already achingly hard.

Dean’s moan is muffled against Cas’ lips, and he pulls away to press a line of kisses down the angel’s neck. Cas’ head falls back against the elevator door and he lets out a quiet groan. He’s always quiet when they do this, annoyingly so in Dean’s opinion, and Dean wants nothing more than to fuck Cas so thoroughly that he’ll lose himself and scream Dean’s name with every thrust. 

Unfortunately they don’t have time for that right now - Cas is already stroking Dean’s dick with a firmness and surety that belies his limited experience, and Dean has finally gotten Cas’ pants loose enough to get his own hand round Cas’ erection. Cas groans again when Dean grips him tight, and they begin to work each other, their movements clumsy in the frantic rush to come. 

Cas moves to kiss Dean again, but Dean pulls his head back teasingly, until Cas growls in frustration and switches their position. Dean takes advantage of the momentary break to lick and bite at Cas’ collarbone, while Cas hastily shoves their pants down enough that he can take them both in hand. Dean lets out a strangled moan and closes his hand over Cas’. Cas kisses him hungrily, as though he’s been as starved for this as Dean has over the past three weeks, and they find their rhythm; hands moving in unison, hips bucking as they grind against one another.

It’s messy and fast and everything Dean’s been missing for the past three weeks; Cas pressed tight against him and mouthing at his neck, licking and biting before returning, always returning to Dean’s lips. 

Dean comes embarrassingly fast, hips jerking wildly as he spills himself over their joined hands, coming so hard it splashes all over his shirt and Cas’ tie. His dignity is only saved by the fact that Cas is right behind him, a soft, breathy moan escaping him as his dick pulses between their hands.

Cas collapses against Dean’s chest, and they stand together in silence, Dean struggling to catch his breath while Cas buries his face in Dean’s neck, lips working lazily against the skin there. Cas has that whole angel stamina thing going for him, and Dean’s never managed to wear him out, though he never seems to want to go for longer than Dean can last either. Dean would worry that Cas only does this for him, if not for the look on Cas’ face when he comes and the way he burrows against Dean after the fact, as though he could happily stay there forever.

The strangest part is that it doesn’t really bother Dean. It never bothers him, not even when Cas curls round him almost protectively on those rare occasions that he can spend the night. It’s been a long time since Dean actually slept with anyone, as opposed to a quick fuck before heading back out the door, but he can’t run from Cas and he doesn’t really want to. It’s stupid, but sometimes he thinks Cas might always be there. If they ever defeat Lucifer and get rid of the other angels, if they ever actually put an end to this war, he thinks maybe Cas would choose to stick around. He hopes, even.

It’s thoughts like that which leave him wondering if maybe he loves Cas, but he never lets himself entertain the notion for long. They’re at war, and he really can’t afford to think about anything beyond the here and now. No expectations, no hopes, no messy emotions getting in the way. Not yet.

Maybe someday.


End file.
